Remembering
by ewon
Summary: This is a one-shot where Ryoma thinks of his marriage with Sakuno. Are you low on sugar? Well then, read this.


Notes: My cousin got married last Saturday and she was so happy that it made me feel all sappy. That's why I wrote this. It's a meaningless little fic, really. I hope you can enjoy it nevertheless. -

Remembering

"I'm home!" Silence greeted Ryoma's half-hearted shout. He blinked in confusion before shutting the door behind him. He dropped his tennis equipement to the floor and threw his keys on a table and then walked to the living room. There was no one there. He furrowed his brows and tried to remember if Sakuno had said something about going somewhere today but nothing came to his mind. His frown became deeper as he made his way to the kitchen, a place he always associated with Sakuno. But he only found more silence. He looked around as if he could find her hiding somewhere if he looked hard enough. He didn't find Sakuno but his thorough examination didn't go to waste because he spotted a piece of paper on the kitchen table.

"Hm?" He picked it up and immediately regocnized Sakuno's handwriting.

'Ryoma', it said, 'In case you don't remember, I'm taking the children to shop today since they need new clothes. I left dinner in the fridge, just heat it up. Don't skip dinner! It's bad for your health!'

Ryoma smiled at the note before tossing it aside. That's right, he remembered now. Sakuno had indeed said something about buying new clothes for the children. He opened the fridge, took out his dinner, heated it and went back to the living room to eat. He flicked the TV on and laid comfortably on the sofa. There was a tennis tournament going on TV. He had programmed the TV so that when it was turned on it automatically showed the sports channel first. Sakuno had complained about it since the children always broke the remote control trying to find a good channel but Ryoma had ignored her. They could always buy a new one, right? So there was no problem. Sakuno had just sighed in resignation.

A certain move one of the players made drew his attention to the game. After watching for awhile he smirked. "Mada mada dane." This match wasn't really worth watching. His thoughts drifted back to his wife.

Sakuno was always there to support him and cheer for him. How many years had it been now? Ten? Fifteen? He couldn't remember. And time didn't really matter. What mattered was that she had _always_ been there. Even after having children she still came to his matches, to the important ones, and shouted: 'Do your best, Ryoma!' And he did. Always did his best, in everything that concerned tennis and Sakuno.

He had went out of his way to get Sakuno first as his girlfriend, then as his wife and finally as the mother of their children. For Sakuno he did things he never even considered doing for other people. Sometimes he walked past a flower shop, thought how delighted Sakuno would be if he bought her flowers and then he went and bought them. At first he had been alarmed after facing such moments. But over the years he had gotten used to it. It never happened with anyone else than Sakuno so it wasn't that bad, he wasn't going to lose himself.

Ryoma's eyes caught the sight of their wedding picture that hung on the wall. Sakuno had wanted it to be there even though Ryoma had been embarrased about it and tried to get her to change her mind. But she hadn't, she had stood her ground and insisted on it. After Sakuno had gone through the states of being reasonable, angry and frustrated and reached the crying state, Ryoma had known that he had lost. He never could win against Sakuno's tears. Such weakness sometimes made him flinch.

The thing that made Ryoma embarrased about the picture was the fact that he was looking thoroughly happy and content in it. He was holding Sakuno by her waist in a way that clearly stated 'mine'. He was looking down at Sakuno and smiling a warm, loving smile and looking altogether far too soft for Ryoma's liking. Sakuno, on the other hand, was looking absolutely gorgeous in the picture. Shy happiness radiating from her, slight blush on her cheeks, stars in her eyes and the world's most beautiful smile on her lips. She was looking down at their intertwined hands.

Ryoma remembered what her hair had felt like, falling down and over his hand, all soft and silky and awfully tempting. He remembered how he had fought against the pins in her hair at night when they finally had managed to get alone in a hotel room. The torture of undressing her carefully when he had had almost no patience left. The soft skin of his bride, the heated hands, searching, confirming that it was true, Sakuno was his and she was there, under his touch, telling him how much she loved him. And he remembered how he had told Sakuno how beautiful she was, that she was his most precious person, that he would take care of her, that she would not have to worry about anything anymore, that he loved her. He remembered soft laughter, tender hands and gentle lips, little moans, hastened breath and hearts beating. He remembered heat and passion, he remebered warmth and happiness. He really loved the memory of that night.

Ryoma smiled at his recollections. After that it hadn't been as romantic. His personality hadn't changed much from junior high where they had first met. He knew it had took a lot of patience and tolerance on Sakuno's part to keep their marriage going. He spent most of his days training and sometimes he left home for long periods to play matches overseas. She had made sacrifices and he did his best to make it up to her, even though she had said that she did what she did because she wanted to, because Ryoma was her priority and came before anything else. For Sakuno it was enough to know that Ryoma loved her and always came back to her, that she was the one Ryoma called home.

Ryoma remembered the fear and horror he had felt in the hospital where Sakuno had given birth to their children. To see her in such pain…it had been the worst. But still he had stayed there, to give his support to her as she had given hers to him so many times. He had held her hand and told her that everything would be alright, that she was doing fine. And even though he had felt his heart falter at every scream of pain, he had not shown it, but kept talking to her, soothing her. And everything had been worth it. The look on Sakuno's face when she first held their child in her arms had made it worth everything. And the tiny hands that grabbed his bangs when he leaned close to inspect his son, and the short legs that kicked the air when the baby laughed had almost brought tears in his eyes. But that was before his own father had come in and shouted: 'Good work, boy!' and proceeded to flirt with Sakuno.

Echizen Nanjiroh was a real pain in the butt. But still, Ryoma couldn't deny that he had played important part in their lives, keeping Sakuno company when Ryoma himself was away playing tennis and looking after their children, thus giving Sakuno time to rest.

Ryoma's eyes wondered to another picture that stood on a shelf he kept all his important trophies. (Sakuno had insisted on that too, Ryoma didn't care much about his past wins.) In the picture was Ryoma and Sakuno with their children, both of their parents, Sakuno's grandmother and Ryoma's cousin. Nanjiroh had his hands on Sakuno's shoulders and Ryoma was glaring at him. Ryoma made a face at the picture. He always felt jealousy when in the presence of people who held some part of Sakuno he himself couldn't reach. Nanjiroh was a special case, because Ryoma felt that he had in some way failed as a husband when Nanjiroh took his place as the pillar of support for Sakuno in times he was away. But Sakuno always managed to calm him down and assure him that he was not a failure but his most beloved husband. Ryoma felt heat rise up his face when he recalled those embarrasing words and his own pathetic reaction to them. He forced the thoughts away.

Ryoma glanced at the clock. It was getting late. Sakuno would come home soon. That was good, he missed- . Loud cheering cut off his thought and he was grateful for that. He was not a sappy guy, after all.

"What's this? They're cheering for _that_ crappy serve? Che!" He concentrated on the game. The silence that lingered in the Echizen house was disturbed by occasional 'hmph's, 'mada mada dane's and amused laughs. And soon a key was fitted in the front door keyhole and he straightened up on the sofa and perked up his ears and the sweet sound of Sakuno's voice filled the silence.

"I'm home!"

The End


End file.
